


Sin: Inebriation

by TheGreatLibraryFangirl (Mazeem)



Series: Sin [2]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Age Difference, Already Negotiated, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay, crack ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22816858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazeem/pseuds/TheGreatLibraryFangirl
Summary: Crack ship time! Wolfe and Khalila's older brother enjoy the effects of intoxication.[Part of my 'Sin' verse, which is now a series, just so I can post longer PWP lol)
Relationships: Christopher Wolfe/Saleh Seif, Niccolo Santi/Christopher Wolfe, Niccolo Santi/Saleh Seif/Christopher Wolfe
Series: Sin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640218
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Sin: Inebriation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crack ship time! Wolfe and Khalila's older brother enjoy the effects of intoxication.

Wolfe had drunk so much wine that he sloshed with it. Everything sloshed. The world around him was fuzzy and sloshy. Which was just ... perfect.

He spread his legs wide and stared at Saleh. The young man was sat opposite him, reading a poetry book Wolfe had recommended. He didn't want to put the effort into remembering which one it was. Just wanted to keep everything soft-edged and out of his control. Just like that.

Saleh looked neat and tidy and decorous. Wolfe didn't feel any of those things. He imagined how he must look, sprawled on the sofa, hot and languid with the wine, and felt a warm wave of arousal begin to build.

"Sal," he said. The slur was ... was not exactly real and not exactly fake. He could have formed Saleh Seif's name perfectly, if he'd tried. But he didn't want to try, and the mere fact that it would have been unusual effort to do so was the sign that they had agreed upon.

Saleh looked at him, and slid his bookmark into his book without a second's hesitation.

He came and knelt before Wolfe, leaning in close to brush away some stray strand of hair. His fingers felt cool against Wolfe's overheated cheek.

"It seems you've had an awful lot to drink, Scholar Wolfe. Perhaps too much."

"I'm fine," Wolfe mumbled.

Saleh shook his head and cupped Wolfe's cheek. Wolfe leaned into the caress.

"Forgive me, but I don't think that's an accurate assessment of your condition." Saleh let his hand fall quickly away, and Wolfe's head jerked sideways as he failed to account for the loss of the support. "This isn't a seemly state for such an esteemed Scholar, is it?"

Saleh's wording was so perfect that Wolfe felt a faint touch of embarrassment heat his already hot cheeks.

"It's best that you retire to bed," Saleh continued. His tone was quiet. Polite. Deferential. "Do you mind if I escort you?"

"That would be best," Wolfe said haltingly, unable to resist licking his lips with anticipation.

He let Saleh manoeuvre him upright and into the bedroom. It was genuinely very difficult to walk in a straight line.

"Careful, now. Scholar. Lean on me."

Saleh managed Wolfe's uncooperative limbs with brisk, arousing competence and confidence. Such a neat, slight young man, to manhandle Wolfe's weight like that. It made Wolfe feel very ... well-looked after. Greedy for more. 

As they halted for a moment in the doorway to the bedroom, he wrapped himself more tightly around Saleh. He wanted to kiss him and grind against him, to melt into a drunken mess of lust, but that would ruin the plan.

Well. Plan? Loose collection of themes, ideas, sentences that they'd put together for maximum memorability, because he was too drunk to hold the fine details reliably, wasn't he?

Just the way they both liked it. 

A shiver twanged him from head to foot and he sighed to relieve some of the delicious tension.

"Are you all right, Scholar?" Saleh asked. "Are you feeling ill?"

"No." Wolfe shook his head. He scoffed. "I'm not that drunk." He pushed away from Saleh, and let himself sway with the tilt of the world. "I don't need your help," he said over his shoulder.

The deliberately, excessively complicated laces and tiny buttons on his chosen outfit for tonight defeated his numb fingertips again and again. He got a little distracted, in fact, by trying to undo one knot, and was genuinely surprised when Saleh cleared his throat.

"Are you certain you wouldn't like some assistance, Scholar?"

Play on it, on that moment of inattention;

"What're _you_ doing in here, Seif?"

Saleh's face flashed into a grin for a brief moment, before smoothing out into a look of concern. He stepped close to Wolfe and took him by the elbow as if to support him.

"You need to be put to bed, Scholar Wolfe," he said intently. His clean-shaven face was very close to Wolfe's, and it took every scrap of Wolfe's self-control to avoid kissing him there and then, or sinking to his knees and sucking him off.

"D-Do I?" he said, at last, missing his cue.

"Yes." Saleh threaded his fingers into Wolfe's grey hair and tugged firmly. Wolfe genuinely went weak as a warm wave of arousal flowed from his tingling scalp along every limb. He grabbed Saleh's arms and pushed his face into Saleh's neck. 

"Sit down." Saleh said, very firmly, and guided Wolfe into a terrifying quick backwards walk, until his knees bumped the mattress and he sat without much choice in the matter.

Wolfe's head felt heavy as he tipped it back to see Saleh standing above him. Deliberately, he let his lips fall open and moistened them with the tip of his tongue. Saleh's eyes darkened. He stepped even closer, between Wolfe's spread legs, and cupped Wolfe's head in both his hands.

"You're very drunk, Scholar."

"I'm fine," Wolfe protested. He wrapped his arms around his torso to avoid reaching out and pulling Saleh down on top of him like he badly wanted to, or touching himself, which he wanted to do even more.

Saleh shook his head. He did mock-seriousness so very, very well. "No, you're not fine, I’m afraid. That's why you're sat down in here, with me." He swept his thumbs along Wolfe's cheeks and his breath caught for a moment.

Wolfe followed the prompt and obediently let his eyes slide closed, but he gloried in seeing that little hitch in Saleh's poise and hoped he'd remember it later.

"Anyone who so much as looked at you in passing would know you were intoxicated to the point of unseemliness, my dear Scholar," Saleh murmured. "Your pupils are very large." His thumbs daintily touched the soft skin just under Wolfe's eyes. "The wine has brought colour to your cheeks, which quite frankly is impressive with your skin tone." More touches, dancing across his cheek bones. "There is a certain indescribable laxity to your usually sharp facial expressions, which anyone who knows you well would certainly notice."

Wolfe didn't need to act to lean his head too heavily into Saleh's caressing hands. It was such a delicious feeling. Quivering with impatience, but too distant and dizzy to chase after it as he usually would. "'M fine," he mumbled, so soft and slurred that even he barely heard it

"And, of course," Saleh continued, shifting Wolfe's head into one hand to free the other, "anyone who comes close enough to touch you would notice the unnatural heat of your skin. Here, for example." He touched the back of Wolfe's neck, and Wolfe couldn't keep from sighing with delight. "Or here, where your ill-advised attempt to unclothe yourself faltered." Saleh's hand pressed against Wolfe's chest, where he'd left his shirt hanging half-open. He could feel his heartbeat fluttering off Saleh's palm. "Do you follow my point, Scholar Wolfe?"

What point? What had Saleh been saying? More touching, please.

"'M fine," he said again. It seemed a safe bet.

Saleh laughed. "It's clear you need some assistance." His hand, the one on Wolfe's chest, slid lower. Inside his shirt. Down towards his belt.

Far too many clothes. Far too much effort to shuck them himself. And anyway. No. The rules. The plan.

"Alright." Wolfe dared to reach out, tangling his fingers into Saleh's belt loop and hanging on for dear life. "Assist me."

"Of course, Scholar. Can you sit up by yourself?"

"Yes." Wolfe pulled himself away from Saleh's hands and braced himself with his arms out behind him.

"Good, good." Saleh knelt, then, slowly, like the teasing bastard that he was, and Wolfe briefly entertained the daydream of Saleh's mouth on his cock. It wouldn't happen tonight - it was, if anything, the opposite of their intentions - but oh, it was enjoyable to picture.

He couldn't help but hold his breath as Saleh smoothed his hands up Wolfe's legs and reached in for his belt clasp. Saleh avoided the bulge there with precision, but the brief tightening of the belt necessary to undo the buckle was very welcome.

A little groan fell from Wolfe's lips before he could quite stop it, and as Saleh eased Wolfe's trousers down from his hips, Wolfe's hand automatically went to his crotch.

"Oh dear." Saleh shook his head slowly. His neat, shining black hair shifted just a little. "All your inhibitions have been washed away, haven't they?" He stroked Wolfe's bare legs. "What a good job I persuaded you to retire for the night. How embarrassing it would have been for you to have started touching yourself on the sofa."

He ran his hands high up Wolfe's thighs. His dark eyes glittered. "I believe we forgot to close the curtains to the main room tonight. So that could have been quite the calamity, should anybody have walked by."

Wolfe just about managed to garble his "Fuck you," into a frustrated sound. Saleh, he decided, had been taking far too many notes from Nic on how to do this. Public sex was very much a game for another night, but it was one that Wolfe adored and the thought made it even harder to take his hand away from his erection. Bastard.

"But it feels good," he protested, putting just a touch of sulk into his voice.

Saleh didn't respond immediately, but busied himself undoing Wolfe's shirt and sliding the soft material down to his elbows.

"I wonder what could have possibly made you feel aroused about this situation?" He stroked Wolfe's exposed chest, rolling over his nipples with each of his fingers one by one. "Here you are, so incapacitated that you need to rely on a good-natured friend to undress you for bed. So little control of yourself that you're content to grope yourself with abandon. Let's stop that now, shall we?"

He took hold of Wolfe's wrist and pulled his hand down to his side.

Wolfe made a complaining noise and tried to pull free, but Saleh didn't let go. Heart fluttering in his chest, Wolfe pulled harder.

Saleh grinned, dark and wide, and held his wrist tightly enough to hurt a little even through the fog of alcohol.

Wolfe moaned at the restriction. "Bastard," he accused, out loud at last. It wasn't much of an act to slur the sibilant.

"Ah, is this what you like?" Saleh looked with mock fascination between Wolfe's damp, tightly stretched underwear and his pinned wrist. "Do you actually enjoy feeling incapable of doing the simplest of things? Of relying on me so ... completely?" That last word emerged low and throaty, and so fucking arousing that Wolfe could barely stand it.

Saleh stood, then, very suddenly, and Wolfe's head reeled from watching. The bulge in Saleh's trousers was momentarily in front of his face, and he leaned forwards happily to reach it. That was very much within the scope of the plan. Saleh cradling his heavy head while he slowly fed Wolfe his cock. Yes.

But Saleh caught him hard by the shoulders before he got there. "Easy, there, Scholar. You nearly fell off the bed."

Saleh knew exactly what he'd been trying to do, of course. What else was he planning, then? Wolfe struggled to redirect his mind back to the possibilities. To struggle to think, as well as to move, was arousing in itself.

"No, I wanna ..." Wolfe trailed off as if words were too much and let his head dangle, let himself lean heavily into Saleh's tight grip.

"Ssh, Scholar. It's all right. Relax. I'm going to lie you down now."

Wolfe let his whole body go limp in Saleh's grip. Trusting his descent entirely to the young man.

The mattress felt very soft underneath him, and the world started to spin even more than before. He yawned widely, then cursed himself. Saleh had full permission to keep going if Wolfe drifted off, but Wolfe wouldn't forgive himself for missing out. Perhaps not so much actual alcohol next time ...

"Tired, are you? I'm not surprised." Saleh stroked Wolfe's hair. "You really shouldn't let yourself end up like this, you know." He tugged again and the sharp twinge at Wolfe's scalp brought the world back into focus again. 

He wriggled himself up against Saleh's hip, nuzzling the warm, creased linen. "I'm sorry. Thank you for looking after me." 

Saleh stroked his cheek, his jaw, his neck. Tidied his hair away from his hot face. "Such pretty manners. Would your beloved partner enjoy those manners, Scholar Wolfe, if he came home from his important trip and discovered you in such a state? Such a venerable Scholar, naked and drooling on my leg?"

Wolfe breathed in hot, rustling silence for a moment, submerging himself in the mild humiliation of Saleh's words and the absolute clarity of their positions both metaphorically and physically.

His hand slid down his stomach and he swallowed down a groan as he rubbed himself through his damp underwear. It was slow and unsatisfying. He wanted to get himself off, relieve the pressure and melt away in dizzy bliss. But no, he couldn't. The plan.

"Thank you," he mumbled again, and closed his eyes. Stayed silent. The world spun again, but his entire body tingled with anticipation. Waiting for Saleh to decide that he'd waited long enough. 

"Would you like to thank me properly?" Saleh asked in a whisper. While he rolled on to his side, his thumb slipped into Wolfe's mouth. Wolfe gently swirled his tongue around the intruding digit. "You wouldn't need to do a thing," Saleh assured him, still in that soft, confidential, almost nervous whisper. As if someone might come and see what he was doing to poor, helpless Wolfe. 

(Wolfe's cock pulsed at that thought. He squeezed his shaft and took in a shuddering breath.)

"I think you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Saleh withdrew his thumb.

Wolfe left his lips slightly parted. Moments later, his lips were graced by the most delicate touch of hot skin. Just the tip, utterly slick with Saleh's eagerness. Wolfe licked the dampness away and opened his mouth again for more. 

"That's exactly right. Just like that." Another soft 'kiss'. Wolfe could feel his pulse thundering under every bit of his skin. Temples. Ears. Fingers. Cock.

Waiting. Waiting. 

He moaned as Saleh pushed inside, and let go of his own tortured cock to clutch at Saleh's legs.

But his moan was stoppered completely as Saleh slid fully inside. Wolfe was more than familiar with this type of obstruction, but he was drunk, after all, and not quite expecting it, and his body jerked with the sudden panic over air. Saleh drew back, slowly and not entirely, staying heavy on Wolfe's tongue but freeing his throat.

"Easy, Wolfe," Saleh cooed, as Wolfe tried not to pant and failed. "Was that too much? Ssh. I'll be gentle."

How embarrassing. Nic would never let him hear the end of that when he got the debrief.

Saleh started to gently thrust back into Wolfe's mouth. His hand was wrapped around his cock, making sure that only the first few inches could enter. His other hand held Wolfe's head still. 

It was a maddening tease that made Wolfe remember his own untended erection. But it was a tease for both of them; there was only so much that this shallow tongue-bathing could do for Saleh too. 

"Aren't you pleased that I found you like this?" Saleh said. His composure was starting to fray, Wolfe could hear it in his voice, and taste it on his tongue. "Others might not have been so _considerate_ of your _welfare_." He thrust a little harder with each emphasised word.

Wolfe swallowed a sudden rush of precum. He finally gave in and shoved his hand past his underwear, groaning with relief as he touched himself bare-handed. 

"What are you doing down there?" Saleh said, immediately, picking up on Wolfe's altered position with ... well, Wolfe supposed, with the acuity of someone who hadn't drunk several bottles of wine over a short period of time.

He whined his displeasure as Saleh sat up. His dark, shining cock bobbed, too close for Wolfe's bad eyesight, reduced to a gleaming shifting blur. Too high up, now. Saleh's thigh was in the way.

"Oh. I see. You're enjoying yourself too." Saleh stroked Wolfe's wrist where it disappeared into his underwear. Wolfe stilled, expecting his hand to be removed immediately, but it wasn't. "Well, that seems only right and fair, doesn't it?"

Wolfe made a deliberately incoherent noise. (Just as well. He wasn't sure he could manage coherence.)

"I must admit, I'm surprised that you can achieve an erection through such inebriation." Saleh cupped the bulge. "May I see?" His nimble fingers made short work of the flies. 

Wolfe shivered as Saleh peeled the damp material of his underwear away from the head of his cock, then groaned and rolled his hips as Saleh reached in and gave his shaft a series of light, unsatisfying strokes.

"Hm. It does appear to be working. Very impressive." Saleh kept stroking it, too gently.

"Please," Wolfe said with a whimper.

Saleh's grip tightened and his motion sped up, and Wolfe made a loud, desperate sound at the sudden increase in sensation.

The wine had numbed him all over, though, and the pressure to come quickly faded. Wolfe turned his face into the side of Saleh's leg and growled in frustration.

"Oh dear, Scholar," said Saleh, in the most sympathetic voice imaginable. "Not quite as functional as we thought, hm?" Saleh's other hand stroked Wolfe's face. "Now, this is no good, is it? Neither of us getting full satisfaction. I'm certain I have the solution."

Saleh didn't wait for Wolfe to react to that. Instead he grabbed hold of Wolfe, at his back and knee, and turned him so quickly and violently that Wolfe's world completely blurred.

When he blinked himself back, he discovered that he was lying on his side. Saleh was pressed along his back, and there was something warm and damp between his legs. He was momentarily very confused - wasn't he still wearing underwear, which was just open at the fly? He patted his hip. Yes, that was the case. He fumbled further, found Saleh's slick cock peeking out underneath his own.

"Don't worry, Scholar," Saleh panted in his ear. He took Wolfe's hand off his hip and put it on Wolfe's cock, tightening his grip so that their hands moved together up and down. "I respect the dignity that you usually possess. I'm not going to violate you. Even though I could, and you couldn't stop me." That last sentence spilled out hot and growling, and Wolfe shivered with the delicious truth of it.

Saleh thrust between his thighs a few times before speaking again, ragged and breathless at last.

"I think I'm owed this, don't you? Just this little use of your limbs? I'm certain you'd return the favour, wouldn’t you? If you could? If you were capable of doing anything, anything at all except lying here?"

He sank his teeth into Wolfe's shoulder, then. Not hard. Saleh wasn't Nic. The taste of blood was a concern to him, rather than a success.

Still, the shock of it and a thumb dug into the tip of Wolfe's cock was enough to finally tip him over the edge.

He gasped and moaned and made an awful lot of uncontrolled noise as Saleh drew him through the aftermath.

"That's better, isn't it?" Saleh cooed, bringing up his slightly shaking hand to stroke Wolfe's hair again. "You lie there, now. Rest."

Couldn't do anything else if I tried, Wolfe thought, with distant satisfaction, and let Saleh's urgent thrusts rock him into a drunken sleep.


End file.
